Minor Made Major
by I-FORGOT-IT
Summary: Shrouded in mystery for close to a millennium, Agnarsson Academy and its house cup were thought to be myths. However, when a chance exchange let students explore the stuff of legends over in Iceland, nobody expected that they'd become legendary too. SYOC
1. Chapter 1

Shrouded in mystery for close to a millennium, Agnarsson Academy and its house cup were thought to be myths. However, when a chance exchange let students explore the stuff of legends over in Iceland, nobody expected that they'd become legendary too.

Okay, so this story will follow your characters as they navigate through Agnarsson Academy and battle for its house cup. There will be some similarities between the schools such as classes and houses, but the dynamics of Agnarsson Academy will definitely be different. **Details about the plot will be revealed throughout the chapters but basics will be written in down below. Also, the character skeleton, school details, and submission rules will be posted on my profile.**

I posted this story a while back but took it down because school was taking over my life. However, now that it is summer, I can finally write and pick this fic back up. I am currently in the process of contacting a few of the people who submitted characters and were accepted previously.** I am only re-using 3 of them, so the rest will be newly selected OCs. If they do not respond, I will be using all new OCs.**

Those people are listed below:

Aliza Natalie Simmons – submitted by BellaRosa17

Einar Johannsson – submitted by James018

Lene Alexandersen – bubmitted by Cirque de Morte

Sorry if the prologue is dense and boring. I couldn't really write much without any submitted characters. All I could do was lay down some foundations and offer some descriptions. However, the next chapters will be a lot better, full of dialogue, and way more exciting. This was just a prologue that sort of introduced the basics. Anyways, read on, submit a character, and enjoy!

xXxXx

Shuffling stiffly through the eastern corridor, Headmaster Hilmarsson took a deep breath. Only a few days remained until another school year began and the very thought of it left him exhausted. With fresh first years, the house cup, and the millennial anniversary celebrations to think about, the old wizard knew he'd be plenty busy. Added to that the new exchange program and the usual teenage angst, Hilmarsson wasn't expecting to have time to rest.

"Ready for a new year, 'eadmaster?" asked a lightly accented voice from up on the wall.

"Why of course, Pilkerton," Hilmarsson responded with as much gusto as he could muster, craning his neck upwards to reply to one of the liveliest paintings in the castle. "Agnarsson Academy is always ready to usher in the new school year."

"Good! Good!" the man cried excitingly, his thinly painted lips widening into a broad smile. "I always did like seeing 'em young faces strolling through ma 'allway looking lost. Mind ya, the most enjoyable thing to do is point 'em the wrong way until they come back and find out I'm what they're lookin' for!"

Hilmarsson chuckled softly, coughed violently afterwards, and then composed himself seconds later. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Pilkerton."

"You was always good to me, Headmaster" the painting replied, grinning happily. "Even when me was simply a fresh piece hung on the wall."

"I try my best, Pilkerton, I try my best," Hilmarsson said, waving goodbye to the framed man. "I would love to chat some more, but I have a few things that need my attention."

"No worries," the painting cried after him. "Always a pleasure!"

"Indeed it is," Hilmarsson said, continuing down the hall until the painting guarding the common room of the Staves was far behind him.

Unlike the other houses in Agnarsson Academy, the Staves preferred having Pilkerton as the protector to their common room entrance. Simple and kind, the painting never put up too much of a fight to open the passageway. Instead, he tended to have long chats with whomever approached him to get inside. So if anyone did have the composure, will, and patience to wait and listen, they'd probably be a Stave. Never ones to jump into things too quickly, Staves typically went with the flow just like Pilkerton.

It was those qualities which had made the Staves last year's house cup champions. Nevertheless, you'd never hear a humble Stave brag about their accomplishment. Hilmarsson liked that. Not ones to stir up trouble, Staves were his favorite type of students.

"Now where was I going again?" Hilmarsson asked himself confusedly, scratching the side of his balding head. "Oh yes!"

He continued to shuffle down the long stone corridor towards the set of intricately carved wooden doors at the end. Like all doors in Agnarsson Academy, the carvings indicated what was to be found on the other side. Whether it was dragons or mandrakes, each door specifically portrayed what was in the room beyond it.

When the headmaster finally reached the end of the hallway, he reached out and caressed the detailed wood. Centuries old, the door had become smooth and its carvings rounded. No longer were its edges sharp and crisp.

Feeling the familiar characters of his office door with his right hand, Arnarson turned the handle with his left and entered inside. The room was spacious yet claustrophobic as shelves of dusty books closed him in. Along with a collection of rare magical artifacts, the headmaster's office was cluttered with parchment, quills, and other small collectibles. In the center of the room was a charcoal colored desk. It was made of thick glass and from behind it one faced the main door. Besides that, the only things left in his office were 10 small doors lining the walls between the bookshelves - each one a shortcut to a specific part of the castle.

Making his way over to the door behind his desk, he slid past it and soon found himself a few feet away from the common room belonging to the Pentacles. Only a small inch-sized slit in the wall distinguished this as the entrance. Reaching into his pocket, Hilmarsson took out the distinctive coin required to enter and inserted it into the slot. He could hear it travel through the mechanics behind the wall and then _click; _the entry way opened. He retrieved his coin from a slot on the other side of the wall and returned it to his pocket.

The Pentacles' common room was probably the least cozy of them all. Yet it was efficient, clean, and embodied almost exactly what most Pentacles were like. Remodeled and modern, one could say that it resembled a bank. In fact, a pair of vaults monitored each by a goblin could be found at the far end of the room.

"Hello Rornuk, Brognok," Hilmarsson greeted. "Making sure all the accounts are in order?"

The two goblins nodded in unison. "Some students made some investments over the summer and just transferred their earnings over," Brognok complained, already grumpy before the start of school. "Not sure why they insist on sending the money now instead of in a week; it messes everything up on our end."

Hilmarsson could only stand there and smile. "There must be a reason. You know the Pentacles; they're a savvy and cunning bunch, especially when it comes to money."

"They may be smart but they're also a huge pain in the ass," Rornuk replied, scribbling down something in his notebook.

"Well, they'll be the ones bringing your banks all the business in the future," Hilmarsson reminded them. Many of the Pentacles went on to own large corporations in the wizarding world.

"Don't remind me," Rornuk grimaced, returning his attention back to the accounts.

Recognizing how busy the goblins were, Hilmarsson decided to leave them be. They too had a lot to do before the start of the first semester. Quietly, he escaped back through the entrance and continued on with his school inspection.

When he came upon the section of the school where the Swords lived, the headmaster was not surprised to see parts of it a mess. There were holes in the walls, rubble scattered across the floor, and marks along the ceiling where spells had gotten away from some pupils.

Meanwhile, the tower belonging to the Chalices was the complete opposite. Adorned with gold and decorated with tapestries, the common room of the Chalices had a feeling of calmness. It felt as if people had lived there and for a long time at that. There was history to the place; more so than anywhere else in the castle. So perhaps that was why Hilmarsson felt at home in the Chalice common room. Once a member of the Chalices himself, Hilmarsson remembered the history he had there.

Grinning as he recalled his days of youth, the headmaster sprawled himself out on one of the old couches. It had been there for centuries and wobbled whenever someone sat down on it. But as a former student who'd spent years rocking back and forth on it, Hilmarsson knew exactly how to sturdy it. Reaching into his pocket one last time, he pulled out a card. It was old, flimsy, and frayed along the edges. Its coloring was no longer bright and bold, but browning and faded. Obviously it had existed for centuries but had been in Hilmarsson's possession for only 62 years.

Then, crazy to do this to an ancient treasure, he folded it twice and tucked it under the corner leg of the couch. The thickness was exactly what was needed to still the rocking and Hilmarsson smirked knowingly. After all, the headmaster of Agnarsson Academy was no fool.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is chapter 1. I am still in the introductory phases of the story so things many be a little slow and confusing. I've been trying to introduce the characters, Agnarsson traditions, and the house cup as discretely as possible. I mean I don't want to write a giant paragraph explaining each in one go. Thus there are a lot of random bits of information scattered throughout this chapter. If things seem confusing, don't worry. I will clear things up in the next few chapters.**

**Also, I'd like to thank all of you who reviewed. I really appreciate all the effort you put into leaving me some good and solid long reviews. They definitely encourage me to write more and update faster. So keep up the good work and hopefully I can repay your kindness with some solid chapters.**

~ Chapter 1 ~

Wiping his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt, Einar Johannsson had an eerie feeling that the wet substance on his face was not his own.

"Ari," he groaned, reluctantly opening his eyes. It was early, far too early for a teenager to be starting their day, and yet he was up all the same. Even the sun hadn't risen fully past the horizon, giving the sky a watercolor quality particular to 6 o'clock a.m. In all truthfulness, had he not stayed up so late unpacking his things, getting up at the crack of dawn wouldn't be so difficult. However, he had, and now both he and Ari were suffering the consequences.

"I know," he moaned. "We do this every day; you don't have to remind me." Swinging his legs out from under the covers, Einar somehow managed to pull himself out of bed and get dressed. When he had the majority of his uniform on and buttoned up, he recalled having left his pants somewhere else besides his wardrobe. Scanning his room lackadaisically, he noticed his white trousers crumpled up at the base of his bed in the exact spot he'd stepped out of them the night before. Smiling, he pulled them on, slipped on a pair of white socks, and tightened his mahogany tie around his neck.

Stumbling into the bathroom shared by all male Staves, Einar glanced briefly at himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess and closely resembled a dark brown rat's nest. He knew his mother would probably chide him about it later if she spotted him, but until then it would remain the chaos that it was. He quickly brushed his teeth, washed up, and then returned to his room.

As always, Ari sat on his bed patiently. "Ready to go?" Einar asked. Ari nodded, jumped off the bed, and then scurried out of the room and down the hall. Einar quickly snatched up Ari's leash and followed him out of the common room.

Navigating through Agnarsson Academy was never easy, especially when one was still half asleep. There was no logical pattern to the castle's layout and getting lost required only a matter of seconds. One wrong turn and a student could be gone for minutes, hours, or possibly days. Yet Einar and Ari had been at Agnarsson for six years. Maneuvering around the castle was almost like second nature to them.

Bounding down a stone corridor, Ari slid around a corner and out into one of the school's vast fields. He ran as far as his legs could take him so that Einar could only locate him because of the contrast between the grass and his reddish-brown coat.

"Don't go too far!" Einar shouted after his dog.

"I hope not. We have a meeting to get to," said a familiar voice from over Einar's shoulder. "But not like you care if we're late or not, right?"

Einar turned to see Aliza Simmons, a fellow Stave, standing behind him with her hand on her hip and a wide smile on her face.

"Liza," Einar greeted.

"Einar," she replied in the same dry manner, jokingly mocking her friend's serious tone. "Ready for another year?"

Einar shrugged. He wasn't expecting anything too out of the ordinary to happen. Besides, if anything did, he imagined that it couldn't be crazier than last year's Staves taking home the house cup. Now _that_ had been insane. All he remembered of that victorious night was Aliza forcing him to drink over 10 butterbeers despite his protests, him puking, and Aliza laughing hysterically the entire time.

"As ready as I'm going to be," he said.

"Now what kind of answer is that?" Aliza asked. "This year is going to be awesome! We're going to clean up in the house cup, ace our exams, and run this school!" she said ecstatically. "Plus we're on the court now."

"Yeah," Einar answered, reaching into one of the pockets of his blazer. He pulled out a stained-glass card depicting the word 'knight' and a mounted armor-clad figure in a plethora of colors. He offered it to his friend so she could get a good look at it.

Taking it in her hands, Aliza felt the cool glass with the pads of her thumbs. "Who would have guessed that little Einar would be the Staves' knight?" she teased jokingly. In reality, even Einar didn't think he fit the description of a knight. Small, thin, and not particularly athletic, one would think that the guy would be blown away by a wisp of wind. "But I guess it's because you've got heart," she grinned.

"I guess so," said Einar rather unemotionally. He returned the card to his pocket.

"I got the Queen card," she announced aloud, bringing out her own glass card. It was similar to his but showed a regal looking women sitting on a throne. "And as your Queen I demand you carry me to today's meeting," she said mischievously.

Cocking an eyebrow, Einar couldn't help but laugh at her. She was a bit random, but that was just Aliza. "You do realize that these cards don't actually let you order people around. They just indicate that you're on the student council. I mean each house has a queen just like you."

"I know," Aliza admitted easily, flashing him a pleading smile. "I just thought I'd test to see if you'd actually carry me all the way to the meeting room."

He knew that wasn't what Aliza really meant. This _was_Aliza after all. His vibrant, crazy, best friend Aliza. Sighing, he ran his hand through his own hair but stopped when one of his fingers awkwardly got stuck in his tangles. "Alright. Hop on."

Beaming, Aliza jumped on his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. Had she jumped on him any harder, they would have tumbled over. But they didn't. And with that, Einar began the long walk towards the meeting room in the Southern tower with Aliza in tow and Ari on his heels.

xXxXx

"Now isn't that a sight to see," Lene Alexanderson said disapprovingly, watching the Knight of Staves piggybacking the Queen from the tower window. "I wouldn't be caught dead doing something like that."

"Neither would I," agreed the girl sitting beside her.

"It's disgusting and hardly what a 6th year should be doing. If I was a member of their house I'd be worried about having such irresponsible people representing me," Lene continued. "What they're doing is highly inappropriate."

"Highly inappropriate," the same girl echoed.

"But what was I to expect from a Stave? Manners and discreteness?" Lene said, clicking her tongue. "That's the last thing they will ever have."

"Very true," her crony said.

Noticing the girl's meek responses, Lene shook her head. "Honestly Jane. You're on this council to have an opinion, not to be a brainless imbecile," Lene scolded harshly. The girl stuttered an apology and nodded profusely. "There are only four members of the Pentacles on this council of sixteen and I won't have us wasting a spot on somebody without a spine."

"S..s..sorry," the girl replied nervously.

"Oh don't apologize. It makes you seem even more pathetic," Lene said frankly, turning away from the girl as to avoid even having to look at her.

Before Jane could shed a tear, the door to the tower swung open and she quickly composed herself. In strolled the rest of the student council along with Aliza and Einar. Einar was breathing rather heavily after carrying Aliza, who was of the same height, all the way up to the tower. However, he managed to find his seat at the round table and caught his breath.

The student council was composed of the four courts totaling 16 members. Each house had a king, queen, knight, and page that made up their court. Thus each house sent two boys and two girls to represent them in the affairs of the school. They had all been requested to arrive at school a few days earlier than everyone else to get things in order before the start of the term. For some reason there was a plethora of seventh year students this year, but a few sixth years had managed to gain positions in their houses' courts respectively.

Immediately, the council members got down to business.

"Students will be arriving tonight and we still have lots to do," announced Maxwell, the head council member, grabbing the attention of the room. "Headmaster Hilmarsson has notified me of several new things that will be going on this year."

"And what's that?" Jane piped up, earning her one of Lene's characteristic eye rolls.

"Firstly, several exchange students will be joining us for the school year."

A buzz immediately filled the room. Agnarsson had never opened its doors to other schools before. The fact that they were now was strange. Only when Maxwell called the room back to order did they all quiet down.

"Why now?" Lene asked. "The last thing Agnarsson needs are exchange students."

"I think it has something to do with this year's millennial anniversary," Maxwell admitted. "But I don't know much about the exchange. Headmaster Hilmarsson will address the students tonight about the whole thing. Really, the only issue we have to talk about is this year's house cup."

The atmosphere instantly brightened. The house cup was the highlight of each year and also what most students got excited about.

"Hilmarsson told me that this month's cards up for grabs are the Hierophant and the Empress. So you all know what that means."

The students all nodded.

"Already? Wouldn't it have been wiser to make the first month's cards a little more powerful if seventh years are fighting for them?" one of council members asked.

"I agree," Lene added. "I mean it's a wasted effort to have seventh years battling for two cards which barely matter in the final fight. These cards are more suited for a first year competition, don't you think?"

"Headmaster Hilmarsson is the one who picks the order of the cards," the first student said. "I don't think that these are good cards for upper year students to fight for either, but it's only the first month. There are 9 more rounds afterwards."

"Well it's still stupid," Lene added, folding her arms and leaning back in her seat.

"I actually think that it's better this way," Aliza interjected. "The first battle is mostly just a demo to show the first years how the house cup competitions work. So if the two cards that the seventh years are battling for are strong ones, and the fight gets too intense, then they'd be too scared to even try when it's their turn."

"That's just an excuse. Sixth years only get at most six battles with seventh years getting seven. So having us fight such a pointless fight seems like a wasted opportunity," Lene said.

"It's not a waste," Aliza said furiously, slamming her palms on the table.

Lene remained calm but glared at Aliza. "So you're basically telling year sevens that they shouldn't take the first battle seriously so that they don't scare the first years? Well, isn't that selfish of you," Lene said smugly.

"How is helping first years smug?" Aliza demanded, practically screaming at Lene from across the table.

"This is their final year. After this they won't be able to compete in house cup battles. So every one counts and asking them to go easy is an insult," Lene said.

"Ladies!" Maxwell said, interrupting their debate. All heads shifted towards him except for Aliza's, whose dark brown eyes were still shooting arrows at Lene. "It doesn't matter. Headmaster Hilmarsson decided the cards and we can't do anything about it."

Exhaling loudly to show her displeasure, Aliza slumped back into her seat. Ari nuzzled her leg from under the table, trying to ease her temperament.

"Now that means each house has to nominate two students to represent them in each battle. This month the seventh years will fight for the Hierophant with the sixth years representing their houses for the Empress."

"And what's the theme of this month's challenges?" Aliza asked.

"Everyone's second favorite," Maxwell smirked. "Dueling."

xXxXx

Finding a spot on one of the library's brown leather couches, Val Blackwood began flipping through the pages of his book. Never one to enjoy certain loud gatherings, Val had long ago decided to skip the first night's feast. The first two had been enough for him. Besides, they always consisted of the same things. First the headmaster would welcome the students, remind them of the school rules, then introduce the house cup and which cards would be fought over in the first round of the competition. It was the same every year; nothing ever changed. So at the start of his third year he decided to boycott the whole event.

Opening up to where he'd last left off, Val started reading. This year his schedule was hectic and he knew the workload would be a killer. Besides having all the core classes to deal with, Val for some reason chosen to take Divination and Tarot, Care of Magical Creatures, and Apparition as well. But if anyone could handle it, it'd be Val.

"The Hierophant," Val read aloud. There was nobody else in the library so he could pretty much do whatever he wanted. "Is the fifth card in the Major Arcana. He represents religion, group identification, conformity, tradition, and beliefs."

Frowning, Val turned the page. The Hierophant had never been his favorite card. Although powerful, it was difficult to use in the final battle of the house cup. Last year the Pentacles, who were the holders of the card and its powers, never even used it.

Besides, if he had to choose a favorite, his would be the Hermit. He'd won it back in his third year when the competition for the card was hexing. The following year he'd won it again in a fight of jinxes. Admittedly, Val liked the temporary powers the card bestowed on the representative from the Swords: enhanced intelligence and reality perception. He thought that they'd be useful in the final fight. If he was ever chosen to fight in the final round, Val hoped to have the Hermit as one of the cards in his arsenal.

After an hour of quiet study, the doors to the library burst open and in entered a group of girls. He recognized them as belonging to the Pentacles and noted one of them particular. She was slender and stood at least a foot taller than her comrades. But it wasn't her height that made her easily identifiable; it her was her hair. It was long, shaggy, and charmed to be a vibrant purple color. In any case, Val thought it only made her skin even more grey and sickly looking.

Annoyed, Val slipped in his headphones in hopes of drowning out the noise. Too bad it wasn't working. He really hated when people came to the library to do anything but study.

"Did you see the look on that exchange student's face when she was put in the Swords?" Jane asked cautiously, pulling up a chair across from Lene at one of the empty worktables.

Lene nodded and twirled a strand of her purple hair around her index finger. "Well I'm not sure why she seemed so shocked. So the hearth's flames turned silver when she threw in one of her belongings, big deal."

"I guess that's not how they sort students at Hogwarts," Jane concluded.

"Obviously," Lene pointed out, her voice short.

Jane opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself. Instead, she changed the topic before she got too much on Lene's nerve.

"How was your summer?" she wondered.

"It was fine," Lene answered simply. She rose from her seat without providing any further details and went over to the library section concerning potions. Snatching one of the thicker books from the shelves, Lene placed it firmly down on the tabletop and opened it up to the first page. Unknown to most, Lene was a hard worker. Most just assumed she was intelligent, but her placement as one of the top witches in the school was mostly due to her work ethic and persistence.

Unsure of what to do to ease the tension, Jane spoke again. "That's good. How are your par-"

Irritated, Val's head shot up and he met Jane's eyes. "Hey you."

"Yeah?"

"You need a cup."

"A cup of what?" Jane wondered.

"A cup of shut the hell up."

**So what did you think? Please leave me a review with your thoughts! I'm a little bias in the fact that I tend to write more for people who give me lots of feedback. But who isn't?**

**Also, submissions are still open! Surprisingly, all spots for boys are filled, but I have a few more open spaces for girls. A list of accepted characters can be found on my profile. So submit and fill those spaces! Also, if your character isn't in this chapter but on the list, then they'll be featured in the next one. So don't worry!**

**Oh, and a lot of people said they wanted romances. I left a list of characters on my profile. So if you have any ideas or want your character to get together with another one, PM me and I will discuss it with the other party.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is the next chapter! I'm still writing people in, but I will try to wrap those introductions up soon. Submissions are still open as I am looking for one more girl to fill the last spot. I have a few candidates that I'm considering but am not certain on whether or not I want to use them. They all sort of have the same personality. So just to let you know, I don't need/want anymore loud and stubborn girls; Aliza and Lene already fill that role. The boys are all really diverse, but I'm struggling to find various personalities for the girls. So submit! Oh, and be careful of contradicting personality traits like being lazy but determined at the same time. Otherwise, that is it! Enjoy the chapter and leave me a review with your thoughts!**

~ Chapter 2 ~

"Next!" Headmaster Hilmarsson said, motioning for the next student to step forward.

With no one before her, Lucy Hart approached the iron fire bowl. It was sitting center stage and radiated an intense heat. Getting closer and closer to its flames, Lucy could feel everyone's eyes focus in on her; she was the final exchange student to be sorted and had obviously piqued everyone's interest.

"What are you offering?"

Pausing a moment to think, Lucy reached up and untied the green ribbon from her hair. Her long strawberry blonde mane instantly fell to her mid-back and she swept it behind her shoulders.

"My Slytherin ribbon," she smiled, tossing it into the flames. She felt sort of bad, like she was betraying her former school, but knew she had about a dozen more upstairs in her suitcase. Plus this was like she was starting fresh, and tossing in the ribbon was symbolic of that. Really, losing one wasn't all that bad.

Upon contact, the green ribbon turned a crisp black and disintegrated. Once the last thread was gone, a sharp crack echoed through the room and a cloud of dark smoke rose from the fire. Several seconds later, the flames began to take on a more metallic-like hue. Slowly, a silver color seeped into the flames and they, as shiny as a coin, thrashed about inside the fire bowl.

Once it was clear that she'd been sorted into the Swords, loud cheering erupted and Lucy couldn't help but smile. She looked out into the crowd of unfamiliar faces and could see several small pockets of kids smiling. The rest were simply clapping politely.

"There you have it," Hilmarsson said, shaking her hand. "Good luck!" He kindly directed Lucy off the stage and pointed her towards some empty seats in the auditorium. On top of the world, Lucy nodded and followed his cue. She made her way down the far aisle grinning and eventually found a spot to sit in. She was a Sword. She belonged to the strongest house.

xXxXx

Glancing around the auditorium, Erik Drews couldn't believe such a place existed; it was breathtaking. It was a combination of the European style of a box-tiered opera house and a deep-tiered playhouse. The pit and stalls were enclosed by a box tier with three horseshoe tiers of balconies and an amphitheater-gallery above. Decorated in cream, gold, and crimson, along with the robust plaster ornamentation, the whole place looked rather regal. Furthermore, the magically lit candles lining the walls gave the room a warm glow that complimented the beautiful saucer dome ceiling.

"Do you mind getting out of the way? Some of us need to get by," the girl next to Erik said, tapping him on the shoulder. The sorting ceremony had ended and everyone was leaving. Oblivious, Erik was still sitting in his seat blocking traffic.

"Oh, sorry," Erik replied, jumping up to make way for the others. The purple haired girl just rolled her eyes and left, making sure to slam her shoulder into Erik's as she passed by.

"Don't let her get to you," Aliza said, capturing Erik's attention. "She's always like that."

Erik chuckled. "It's okay. I was the one who was in the way."

"Everyone is in Lene's way," Aliza stated. "You just got the brunt of her anger because she's hungry and you're new."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So she's going to get something to eat? I'm not going to lie, but I'm starving too," Erik admitted. Had he not been so excited about getting sorted for the second time in his life, he probably would have felt his stomach rumbling.

Aliza laughed. "Don't worry, I'll take you to the dining hall."

Erik followed Aliza out of the amphitheater and through the school. It wasn't that hard to find where the dining hall was and all Erik really would have had to do was follow the crowd. The sea of white crammed through the tiny corridors and through a set of double doors.

When they entered the dining hall Erik was reminded of a typical restaurant. Instead of four long tables, multiple round ones were scattered throughout the room. The students didn't seem to have mixed a lot either and individual tables were mostly occupied with students belonging to the same house.

"My friend saved us a seat near the front," Aliza said, grabbing Erik by the arm and dragging him across the room.

The two planted themselves down at one of the tables at the far end of the room. Einar was already sitting there and had helped himself to some of the food on the table. He briefly introduced himself and then resumed eating. Erik had to admit that the food looked extremely appetizing and he licked his lips. He couldn't identify everything being offered but Aliza happily helped him out.

"That there is smoked lamb, salted pork rib, smoked Puffin, and a Graylag Goose," Aliza said, going down the line of plates spread out on the table. "And then there is mushroom sauce, boiled potatoes, peas, pickled beetroot and jam. Dessert will be rice pudding with raisins."

Erik nodded and began piling food onto his plate; he was starving. He had managed to place a huge spoonful of jam onto his plate along with some vegetables and meat. As a devote lover of all things edible, Erik couldn't help himself. Plus he had to take in a lot of calories to fuel him during quidditch.

"So," Eric began, starting up a conversation. "What's all this stuff about the house cup?" He managed to scoop up a few peas with his fork.

Wiping her mouth with a napkin, Aliza began to explain. "Well, I'm not sure how you guys do things at your old school, but the house cup is a serious thing here."

Einar nodded. "Last year it was a big upset that we won."

"Knowing some of the other sixth and seventh years, I'd say they've already started plotting their revenge," Aliza pointed out. "Anyways, the whole thing is a lot less complicated than people make it out to be. Everything is meant is to test one's skills and things they've learnt throughout their years at Agnarsson."

"Well," Einar cut in. "Sort of."

"Okay, so some of the tasks require more talent and skill than knowledge, but it is all balanced out in the end," Aliza admitted. "There are ten months to the school year and twenty tarot cards. Two were stolen a long time ago. Each month two cards are presented and fought over through a competition decided on by the courts."

"Then two students per house compete in each competition. The younger students go first and then the older ones after," Einar said, popping a small boiled potato in his mouth.

"Why?"

"The competitions for each age group is the same but varies in difficulty depending on the year participating," Aliza answered. "Then, at the end of the year, the houses each nominate 3 students to represent them in a final battle where they use their collected cards to eliminate each other from the battle."

"And this goes on every year?" Erik asked, fascinated by the whole thing.

Aliza nodded. "The competition can get pretty fierce. Sometimes it goes a little overboard, but I've never heard of anyone dying."

"Except for-" Erik gave Aliza a look of confusion.

"Somebody died?" he asked.

Aliza sighed. "It happened years ago," she admitted.

"But eleven people were killed," Einar corrected. "Not just one."

"Still, it hasn't happened since," Aliza added.

"True," Einar said, shoveling some more food into his mouth. Aliza nodded and took a sip of her drink.

"Besides, nobody is crazy enough to take it as far as that one guy did," Aliza said. "But I'd still be careful; some students go for blood."

"Like that Lene girl?" Erik asked.

Aliza grinned. "Yeah, like Lene."

xXxXx

"Still works like a charm," Nick Andrews grinned, retrieving the coin from the slot. He'd nicked it off some first year a couple of years back and was surprised it could still get him into the Pentacles' common room. He thought they'd have given out new coins by now, but he realized they hadn't once he gotten inside.

As a Sword, Nick shouldn't have been anywhere near that area of the castle. He was supposed to be at the feast with everyone else in the school. However, he just couldn't resist leaving a couple of gifts for the new exchange students.

Strolling into the boys' dorm, Nick scanned each room for some Hogwarts trunks. He didn't find any in the first few rooms but came across one closer to the end of the hall. In nice brass lettering, the name 'Stefan Lindstrom' was written across the top. Of course Nick had almost gotten his head ripped off by someone's pet along the way, but he was agile enough to dodge the attack.

Making his way over to the bed, he tossed his bag on top. Unzipping it, Nick pulled out a large collection of wind up alarm clocks. One by one, he cast an invisibility spell over each one and hid them around the room. He placed two under the bed, three on the shelf, and over fifteen more in various places throughout the room. He'd set for them to go off every twenty minutes after midnight .

"Looks like somebody is going to be a little tired tomorrow," Nick said under his breath. "And a little bruised as well."

Returning to the bed, Nick pulled out two sticks of butter and began preparing for his second prank. Getting down on his hands and knees like he was about to wash the ground, he started rubbing the substance all over the floor. It was no wonder as to why his trousers always had holes in the knees. When he'd finished coating the entire room and was satisfied with a job well done, Nick grabbed his bag and headed for the door. Of course he almost slipped a couple of times, but he had always managed to catch his balance.

**So what did you think? Drop me a review with your thoughts!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, here is a short chapter to get the ball rolling. You may have noticed that I am a terrible updater, but I will keep going with this fic so do not worry. So let me know what you think with a review! Oh, and I know that I haven't really described how people look, but I am working on it! I'm stuck in this limbo where I either focus a lot on personality or appearance. I used to only describe appearances and everyone used to be as bland as a book, so I guess I've overcompensated by not describing physical appearances at all. So please bear with me as I try to balance my descriptions out and make them more subtle.**

Nick never bothered paying attention in class, especially not in History of Magic. He'd managed to pass the course last year, albeit with a lot of difficulty, but passed nonetheless.

Staring out the window, he watched the sun emerge from behind the clouds, energizing the lush fields below. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for himself. The low drone or the professor's lecturing felt like a million miles away. Class was only half over and Nick was already struggling to stay awake. Sighing inwardly, he looked at the clock hanging over the doorway; thirty minutes were left until lunch.

"I suggest you review a bit," Professor Dawson said, placing Nick's marked assignment on his desk.

Groaning, he glanced down at his test booklet. Each page was covered from top to bottom with corrections. First term had just started and he was already off to a rough start. Shoving the test into his bag, he waited for the bell to ring so he could make his escape. He was planning on sneaking into the kitchens to spike the drinks before classes resumed after lunch.

Bored out of his mind, Nick turned his attention to his classmates. Staring outside would only make the time pass by slower. Luckily, Nick sat at the back of the class and could see everything the other students were doing. He couldn't help but roll his green almond-shaped eyes at Lene, who was busy scribbling away in her notebook. She loved the class and tried way harder than anybody else at the boring subject. Nick concluded that if anybody needed a drink to loosen up, it was Lene Alexandersen.

Nick's attention shifted once again when a ball of paper smacked him in the side of the head. He glared around the room but eased up when he realized who the culprit was.

Once the teacher turned away, Nick's closest friend, Val Blackwood, sent another scrunched up note his way. Val was sitting at least ten rows to his right but still managed to hit him straight in the head. His aim was incredible.

Nick unraveled the ball and read it quickly under his desk. Unfortunately, Professor Dawson snatched it from his hands the moment he looked up.

"Mr. Andrews, is there something you'd like to share with the rest of us?" she asked aloud.

"No professor," he replied quickly.

"Are you sure? I think your classmates would love to hear what you think is more important than today's lesson."

"I really think they wouldn't," Nick insisted.

"Then I suggest you stay a few minutes after class to enlighten me at least, because I am _very_ interested," she said, tucking the note into her pocket. She made her way back up the row and handed another student back their test.

When the bell finally did ring, Nick made a move towards the door but was grabbed by the teacher. For such a small lady, Professor Dawson was quite strong; her grip on his forearm was proof of that.

"Weren't you were going to keep me company for a few minutes?" she reminded him softly, her voice quite misleading.

Professor Dawson was one of those old school teachers who thought today's students were far too selfish and coddled. She had no qualms with handing out detentions to any errant student who lacked discipline, or simply whenever she wished to affirm her authority. She especially hated it when students didn't take her course seriously. She understood that history wasn't everyone's favorite subject, but she remained adamant that it was necessary for every student's basic education.

"Mr. Andrews," she said, giving him a disappointed look. "I hope this year won't be a repeat of the last."

Nick shook his head, his shaggy dark blue hair whipping from side to side. "Of course not, professor. I will study harder."

She frowned, releasing his arm from her grasp. "I hope you are being serious. While I'd love to have you spend half of your lunch with me everyday to review, I'm sure you'd rather eat lunch with your friends. However, it can be arranged," she smiled devilishly.

"That's alright, professor. I will pay more attention in class," Nick said. Of course he didn't specify _how much more _attention he'd be paying, but he would at least try.

The professor nodded and handed him back the ball of paper. "I didn't read it, but next time I will. And I will do so in front of the entire class," she warned him. "Now as long as you fix your attitude, you may go."

xXxXx

Stefan Lindstrom wasn't in the mood for eating. He could barely keep his eyes open, let alone his mouth. To make matters worse, his already pale skin was even more colorless recently. His complexion and the dark circles underneath his light blue eyes made him resemble a ghost. For the past three weeks he'd been having trouble sleeping, and his appetite and appearance were suffering because of it. Even so, he forced himself to sit in the dining hall and at least try to get something down. In the mean time he could get some homework done too.

Despite his interest being mostly directed towards his charms assignment, Stefan couldn't help but notice the unusual buzz filling the room. Students, especially the older ones, were flocking into the hall and forming a crowd near the front. Before he got lost in whatever on earth was going on, he stopped a girl with long brown hair to ask what was happening.

"The lists are posted," she said, grinning with excitement.

Stefan gave her a confused look. "What lists?"

"The class rankings," she replied. "It lists the top twenty students of each class to give each house a better idea of who should represent them in this month's battle."

With his interest piqued, Stefan made his way forward towards the several long pieces of parchment floating at the front of the room. Some were unrelated to this month's dueling challenge, which had been announced a week ago, but were posted nonetheless. He passed over the ones about astronomy, potions, and muggle studies and focused in on the ones for charms and defense against the dark arts.

He was rather confident that his name would appear. He'd studied hard and did extremely well on the assessment test for his charms class. So it only made sense that he'd be one of the top twenty students in sixth year.

xXxXx

Lucy Hart couldn't contain herself when she saw her name ranked twelfth on the charms list. She squealed with delight at the very thought that she might participate in the dueling competition. She'd only been at Agnarsson for a few weeks and was already starting to make her mark amongst the new student body.

"I did it!" she exclaimed, scanning the other lists to see if she was on any of them as well. Sadly, she didn't appear a second time. Still, this didn't bother her much; at least she was on one.

"Not just yet," Lene said vindictively from behind her, eager to burst the strawberry blonde's bubble. "If my eyes aren't deceiving me, there are three other Swords placed above you."

Lucy's bright smile faded. She glanced back up at the Charms list and noticed the names of three of her fellow housemates sitting comfortably in 3rd, 6th, and 10th. She recognized one of the Hogwarts students up there too.

"Besides, since only two students from each house get to compete, I'd say there is a slim chance that your house will choose you," Lene said smugly.

"And what gives you the right to say that I won't get chosen?" Lucy shot back, fuming.

Lene just laughed in her face and then pointed to her own name. She was 1st. "That right there."


End file.
